But this time, it seemed the two leaders didn't have a very pleasant conversation!
"Leon, something's not right! Are we really going to fight?"
Beside Leon, a short young man spoke in a low voice.
His name was Julien. He was considered a half-gang member, the kind who is not part of the main gang.
"Don't panic if a fight breaks out. Just follow behind. No one will bother us," Leon said.
They were just small fry at best; if the other side wanted to take down someone, they would go after the big shots!
As expected, the talks between the two sides really broke down.
All that could be heard was their leader shouting, "Brothers, kill the Santoni Clan!"
The opposing leader shouted, "Beat them!"
In an instant, more than 500 people from both sides started fighting each other, and the scene was extremely chaotic.
What kind of situation hadn't Leon seen?
Compared to the endless gunfire and carnage on the battlefield, what he saw before him was nothing.
He was all show and no substance, just loafing around in the back. Leon was just waiting for the fight to be over so the police would come and clean up the mess, and then he'd get his 100 francs and leave.
However, things took an unexpected turn. A few of the Santoni Clan's underlings, pushing through the chaos, actually ran up to Leon and Julien.
Julien was pale and trembling, gripping his club with both hands, clearly terrified.
The underlings looked at each other.
"Look at those two! That one is shaking like a leaf!" The guy in front was overjoyed.
Easy targets! Beating two men down in front of everyone was a chance to make a name for themselves in the gang.
He turned around and shouted, "Ferrand, watch this! These two are ours!"
Holy crap!
Leon cursed inwardly. He had only come to stand in the back, and trouble had still found him.
Just as the underling called out and turned his head, a dark shadow flashed past him.
"Bang!"
With a muffled thud, the world spun around him, and a steel pipe struck him directly in the face.
Blood flowed from his mouth, all his teeth were broken, half his face was swollen, and he fell down with a blank stare, completely stunned and unable to even cry out in pain.
"In the middle of a fight with blades! How dare he leave the back of his head exposed to the enemy?"
"Something's wrong with him!"
Leon shook his head. He had originally planned to slack off the whole time, but unfortunately, these guys had picked him!
"Damn it, cripple him for me!"
Watching helplessly as his underling was struck with a pipe and fell to the ground, Marc Ferrand was furious.
"Get him!"
Seeing the other underlings rush up, Leon felt helpless. It seemed that he would really have to make a move today.
But it didn't matter. He had been through the battlefield, so why would he care about a few petty thugs?
The first henchman rushed up with a knife, aiming straight for Leon's head.
At that moment, a fierce glint flashed in Leon's eyes. His hand movements were completely invisible, but with a clang, the opponent's machete was knocked out of his hand.
"Ah!"
A scream like a pig being slaughtered rang out as the henchman clutched his broken arm and yelled.
"What?"
"He's definitely got some skills!"
Upon seeing that another of his underlings had been crippled in just one exchange, Ferrand's expression turned serious. He knew he had encountered a master!
But he couldn't back down. Besides, he had earned his position through countless battles, fighting his way up with every single blade.
After taking down four underlings in succession, Leon finally faced the personal intervention of Ferrand.
A machete came slashing from the side; if it were anyone else, Ferrand would definitely have chopped off their arm.
Leon retreated rapidly, narrowly avoiding the attack; his clothes were even torn open.
This Ferrand did have some skill; at least his knife-wielding speed was fast enough.
But it was no use, because Leon was faster and stronger than him.
"Clang!"
The steel pipe struck the back of the knife, making Ferrand's arm go numb, but before he could recover, Leon struck again.
"Ah!"
A scream from Ferrand rang out, instantly drowning out all other sounds. Both sides turned to look, their eyes widening in disbelief.
"Is that Ferrand?"
"How did he get beaten up like this?"
"Oh no, it's Ferrand!"
"Damn it, hurry and save Ferrand!"
At this moment, Ferrand looked extremely miserable. Both of his arms were broken, and he had been hit on the head, from which blood was gushing out!
And next to him, there were five Santoni thugs lying on the ground groaning in pain. The only person standing in that area was Leon!
It was obvious that he did it all by himself, and quite a few people saw him do it!
"Save Ferrand!"
The Santoni men rushed over, trying to rescue Ferrand, while Leon's side was equally determined to wipe them out.
It's important to know that Ferrand's identity was not simple; he was the right-hand man of Paul Rocca, the leader of the Old Port branch of the Santoni Clan!
What is a right-hand man?
He was Rocca's most capable fighter and the second-in-command of the Santoni Clan in the Old Port district.
It is easy to imagine how high Ferrand's status was, and how severely his downfall dealt a blow to the morale of the Santoni men.
Thus, one side began to lose heart, while the other side's morale soared, and the Santoni Clan was quickly defeated.
This gang fight ultimately ended in victory for Leon's side.
"Hahaha! Those Santoni bastards have run away, the Opera quarter is ours now!"
A bald, middle-aged, fat man laughed loudly. He was Gaston Vidal, the leader of Leon's side.
His true identity was a boss of the Garnier Crew, second only to the leader, and he was in charge of this operation in the Opera quarter.